Voices from Beacker1160's Scroll
by Beacker1160
Summary: A collection of my dragcave short stories, fanfictions, and one-shots. These stories are typically told in the eyes of one of my dragons, and aimed to give an insight into the daily lives of the dragons in my scroll. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Introduction - Dragcave Story Collection

Hello Fanfiction readers and Dragcave players alike.

What you are reading now is a collection of my dragcave fanfictions and short stories.

Most of these are not very long, though there are some exceptionally lengthy ones. They are mostly told by my dragcave dragons! My goal is to write one for and in the perspective of every one of my dragons, and I have over 500 (onoz a gold trophy), so I've got a very big task ahead of me. I will finish it some day, however. Some day. :L

Typically, these stories will be in first person, told by the dragon. The dragon who tells the story has their name next to the title. There will also be the date that it was written, along with a short summary at the top, which also tells you, again, which dragon is narrating it.

The dragons may also use unique vocabulary and refer to different dragons. Keep in mind that at the date of the fanfic being written, certain dragons might have not belonged to my clan. Please do not be confused if newer stories reference dragons or breeds that older stories do not recognize. This is because at the time of the writing, that dragon or breed did not belong to my clan and, indeed, did not exist yet.

**_Please note that these stories are NOT related to each other. Each of them is an independent story. To avoid spamming/flooding the Dragcave fanfiction section full of these small, independent stories, I have decided to group them together into one large collection. Each chapter is a different story that unless otherwise specified, is NOT related to the others (you can consider them one-shots)._**

But first, before you read, here are some basic facts about my dragons, along with some peculiar vocabulary that they might use.

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My Clan's Leaders (along with their birth date):

Isendae Anamatus - Feb 19 2012

Nocte Entitae Rasvim - Feb 19 2012

Midnight Jubilante - May 01 2012

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Vocabulary:

"Clan" = My dragcave scroll, along with the dragons on it. A 'clan member' is one of my dragcave dragons.

"Cave" = Again, my dragcave scroll. Used much less commonly than "Clan". Some of my dragons obstinately insist on using it though.

"Leader" = One of my clan's leaders. They generally lead the clan and direct its activities.

"Snatcher" = These are dragons on my scroll which are assigned to grab eggs from the abandoned page and bring them back to my clan (no, not in real life, but this is my 'explanation' for how I get eggs from the AP). The way the Snatchers get to the eggs is through a portal which takes them to the Abandoned Page, which is realized in my fanfics as a large central cave with a pile of abandoned eggs in the center.

"Protector" = These are dragons on my scroll which are assigned to protect my clan's snatchers (see above) from attacks and other dangerous encounters such as other dragons trying to steal eggs from my Snatchers.

* * *

_A brief history of my clan:_

_I started with four dragons in February of 2012, just 4 days after valentine's day. These four dragons were an albino, a guardian, a nocturne, and a balloon which I killed as a test (rest in peace). The original three quickly grew into a dozen, and then two, and then three. Two of the original three became leaders right from the start._

_My official policy from the start was simple: name and describe all dragons. Of course I could name easily, but describing was more labor-intensive. Still, I loved my dragons enough to do it. And so my clan grew and grew, past the releases, past the days and weeks and months. I attained the bronze trophy, but was too busy hunting rares with that extra 5th space to really celebrate. There was also another small highlight: the introduction of a third leader, Midnight Jubilante, who would become the dominant backbone of the clan, assisting her senior leaders with her practical, robust, yet intuitive and sensitive leadership._

_My other policy was to get rares. Rares, rares. Rares all over. I snatched trios, dinos, papers, everything. Halloween and Christmas were amazing to me. Sadly, after that my participation in Dragcave began to decline. I fell behind in descriptions. When I finally did come back, I had lost my quick touch and couldn't get any more rares for weeks. One highlight brightened my day: I had finally achieved the silver trophy._

_At this time, my closely-knit cave slackened as a revolution swept my descriptions: now there were hilarious, odd, and strange descriptions, instead of descriptions that were more integrated with the cave. As a result, there were more dragons living on their own, more strange and funny and insanely weird dragons. My central clan had less power now, as more and more members of my scroll began moving out of the central territory camp. Many of my modern descriptions nowadays do not mention anything about the camp. Perhaps that will change. In the meantime, I must attend to my new shiny golden trophy and my 500+ dragons all wanting descriptions!_

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I will periodically add more fanfics to this collection! Stay tuned for more fanfics daily!


	2. Gentle Moonlit Sky - My Greatest Regret

Gentle Moonlit Sky - My Greatest Regret

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Gentle Moonlit Sky, a royal blue dragon (the first in my clan) tells about her complicated love life.

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Written 7/16/12 (according to Google Drive. Exact date conflicted, but I am certain that it is somewhere in July. This is, by far, the oldest fanfic added to this collection and was written months ago with the intention of it being an independent story. I have, however, decided to merge this with the collection).

* * *

It was a chilly night when Midnight Expedition and I were gazing at the stars from the peak of Moonlight Mountain. Ever since his relationship with his mate, Sparkling Alpine Spring, didn't work out (she had decided to go chasing off after The Limerian Christmas, a handsome Gold tinsel, who had ignored her affections so far), he had turned to me for friendship. Eventually, it had developed into a happy affair, and we began making plans to be mates. We had been in love with each other for a while, and even before that, we had been through many things together.

It all began two years ago. Back then, Midnight Expedition and I didn't know each other well, but I could always sense there was something going on. Occasionally, I would catch a young, handsome black dragon looking at me, but I never made any point of being friendly. Later, I would learn that his name was Midnight Expedition from going on hunting parties and patrols that happened to include him, but I did not care for him any more than that. I simply wasn't ready for anything involving love, and I was merely a young and pretty royal blue.

I told myself that if I ignored him for enough time, he would realize I wasn't interested and would find someone else to fancy. However, he was determined, and he didn't give up. Although he never mentioned it to me, I could see the signs: he always blushed when other dragons casually talked about me, he seemed hesitant and nervous whenever he was trying to tell me something, and whenever he was given the honor of delegating tasks to various dragons, he always tried to give me something I liked (he knew I hated hunting expeditions, but so did pretty much every other dragon in the clan).

However, even though he was a likeable enough dragon, I still pretended I was indifferent to him. He was quite popular among the dragons of the clan, and he had a lighthearted, humorous personality. He loved to tell jokes and funny stories, and he always seemed to be able to make everyone laugh, no matter the situation. He was also brave and courageous, and he was an excellent warrior, not to mention his good looks and handsomeness. What else could a female dragon ask for?

But, I wasn't ready, like I said before. I was young and pretty, but I didn't want to pick a mate, not just yet. Maybe, in a few years, I thought. Maybe when I grow up and learn some more. So I told myself to hold it out, to keep him interested until I was ready to take him.

It was my biggest mistake. One night about two years ago, I was stargazing on top of Moonlight Mountain (a very high mountain in the western part of my clan's territory) when he flew by and landed next to me. He didn't say a word or bother me, so I told myself to ignore him.

However, after a few hours, he turned to look at me. I expected a hungry, lusty look, but he gave me a kind, gentlemanly one. "Gentle Moonlit Sky…I…well…I really like you…" he began, and blushed a shade of pink I hadn't seen in anyone else. He was usually very calm and composed, so I was surprised that I had such a big impact on him.

Why would he like me so much? I didn't know…I really didn't. Who was I? A pretty, young royal blue that was afraid of killing things and venturing out into the woods at night? I was shy, I was smart, but I didn't have the qualities of a hunter or a warrior. At that time, my clan needed dragons with those traits the most, since it was winter and food was scarce, not to mention the multiple hostile dragon attacks. I considered myself not very useful, and I was physically weaker than most of the other dragons.

Perhaps it was my personality. Although I was shy and modest, I was knowledgeable and loved to help the white dragons in the medicine cave. I hated killing things, and I was fond of gathering plants and herbs. Maybe he liked me for who I was. Maybe we had more in common than I thought…

"I've been thinking about this…for a long time…" he said while snowflakes floated lightly down from the sky. We looked at each other for a while, but I knew I still wasn't ready. "Will you…be my mate…?" he had asked tentatively on that fateful night two years ago. Although I wanted him more than anything (he was the perfect male; popular, funny, brave, handsome, and an excellent warrior as well), I knew that I was still too young. Giving him a stare that was halfway between icy and longing, I said painfully, "I'm sorry…but I won't be your mate…I'm just not ready…"

I expected him to be angry or at least a little mad, but all he did was look at the ground, and I could tell the only feeling in him was disappointment. Beginning to regret that I had rejected him so…so harshly, I tried to call out to him. However, the snow had picked up into a roaring blizzard, and as he prepared to take off, I thought I could see tears in his eyes. "I'll see you later, Gentle Moonlit Sky…I'm sorry this couldn't work out…I really am and I regret coming here and asking you in the first place when you weren't ready…" he said in a way that spoke of so much pain in his heart that it made me want to wrap myself around him and comfort him. I was just about to do that when he jumped off, extending his wings and flying away. "No…wait!" I said, calling out to him. "Please don't go!"

But he was gone. He had vanished into the snowstorm.

Feeling like my heart had broken in two, I cried the rest of the night, wondering why, _why_, WHY I had rejected him. He was perfect for me! He was gentle, he was kind, and he was willing to protect me and ensure I was safe! Yet…I had to let it all go to waste; I had to make his heart shatter in two. I almost just considered killing myself; flinging myself off the cliff for being a complete, horrible idiot that night.

But I lived on. For the next few days, he didn't say a single word to me or to anyone else. When Isendae Anamatus, one of my clan's leaders, tried to call out to him, he disobeyed and flew away into the mountains, coming back a week later with the same, heartbroken look.

He was never the same after that.

The first thing I noticed was a sort of coldness and iciness in his voice. Although he eventually had to speak to me, he didn't do it with any emotion. He just dictated all of my duties and assignments to me as if he had no heart, as if I was any other ordinary dragon. No longer did he tell funny stories; no longer did he play practical jokes on anyone. He smiled only occasionally, and he never laughed. Gone were his lighthearted attitude and warm, mellow personality. I began to hate myself for turning him into an emotionless shell of what he used to be, and often, I couldn't even meet his cold, rigid eyes.

For a year and a half we pretended that we didn't care about each other. We tried to get away from each other as much as possible, we pretended that the other didn't exist, and whenever we could, we volunteered for different patrols and expeditions in the general effort to separate. We endured a pain in our hearts that most dragons could not even think of. However, it all changed as summer came to an end after a year and a half.

I first heard the news from Violet Dawn, my close friend. "Gentle Moonlit Sky, did you know that…Midnight Expedition…well…he's just announced that he's mates with this two-finned bluna called Sparkling Alpine Spring…umm...well, I thought I'd let you know, that's all…"

As soon as I heard it, I felt a stab of pain and regret. That night, I just couldn't stop crying. Violet Dawn tried to comfort me as much as she could, but the tears flowed from me like a river. I already told her everything that had happened between us two, and she knew that I had liked him even from the very beginning. She had actually urged me to go and tell him about my feelings for him in those early days when we were just two innocent, young dragons exchanging glances whenever we thought the other one wasn't looking. Needless to say, I had refused and didn't follow her advice, since I was shy, timid, and a bit scared.

I made up my mind to attend Midnight Expedition and Sparkling Alpine Spring's mating ceremony. As I watched, Isendae Anamatus conducted the ritual. Midnight Expedition and Sparkling Alpine Spring pledged their allegiance to each other, and then, among the tremendous applause, they walked with their claws intertwined through the crowd of onlookers.

During the feast that always came after they were officially mates, I thought I heard something wonderful: a melodious, golden laugh that brought me back to the Midnight Expedition that had existed a few years ago. It was the first time that I heard him do so much as even a chuckle since that night at Moonlight Mountain, and I was flooded with regret and longing. I had not heard something as beautiful as his laugh for years, and I wished that I could tell him that I was wrong, I was horribly wrong and I wished he would be my mate more than ever…

My chance came the winter after he became mates with Sparkling Alpine Spring. Violet Dawn, Gentle Wind Rider, and Mystic Desert Stone, three of my friends, had become frozen after eating a certain type of berry. I, along with Dark Tar Sands, Paragon II, Paloma III, Witewing, and Midnight Expedition were asked to go and get the cure. The journey was long and we often came close to losing our lives, but it forged a friendship between Midnight Expedition and me, and for the second time since his mating ceremony I heard him laugh.

I remembered the exact moment that the old Midnight Expedition made its glorious return and shoved aside the quiet, icy, emotionless shell of the him that had existed for two whole years. We were on the first night of the journey, and we happened to camp by Moonlight Mountain. After everyone had gone to sleep, I had noticed that he wasn't with the group. Climbing up to the peak to do my usual stargazing, I had found him there, with a tear streaming down his face.

Asking him what was going on; he seemed surprised and quickly wiped it off, thinking I had not seen it. He offered to leave me alone so I could look at the stars in peace, but I told him it was fine for him to stay.

It was almost identical to the first meeting, two years ago. We sat in silence, looking at the stars. However, it was I who started the conversation this time, not him.

"Midnight Expedition," I said quietly, and he turned to look at me with his piercing emerald eyes. "What is it?" he asked cordially.

"I…I have something to tell you…"

"Go ahead." He seemed to realize what was coming.

"It's…it's about that night…two years ago…do you remember?"

"I do. I remember it as clear as if it had happened yesterday." And he laughed a cold, lifeless, hollow laugh that sent shivers down my spine.

"Well…I…I just wanted to say…I regret saying no. I really hated myself over these years. I kept asking myself why I did something so stupid…but…it's too late now…I guess…"

For a second, I thought I saw something painful and longing in his eyes, but they quickly returned to normal. "It is to late now. You know I have a mate."

"Yes, I know."

"Then, why do you ask?"

"Well…I have something to say…" I couldn't hold it back any longer. I had to tell him the truth, about my real feelings, about the pain that stabbed my heart for years…

"Yes?"

"I have to tell you, you are the most handsome, the most brilliant and wonderful dragon I could wish for. You're popular, you're funny, and I love your lighthearted attitude. I love the way you laugh, and how you can make anyone happy in the saddest of times. You're brave, you're gallant, and you're unafraid of anything…I wish I could be your mate…but…"

I could see more tears streaming down his face now, and I was beginning to cry as well. "I—I know…" he said, and he didn't make any attempt to wipe those tears away. He let them drip onto the rocky top of the mountain, and I could see the heartbroken look on his face.

"So…if we can't be mates…can we be friends? I've longed for your laugh for years, it's better than the best music any dragon can make. It fills my heart with warmth…with pleasure…it reminds me of you…the only dragon I will ever desire…"

I didn't need to say any more. Midnight Expedition slowly reached out his claw, and I shook it. Despite his glistening tears, he still managed a weak smile. "Friends…" he said, as if contemplating something completely foreign that he had never thought of before.

Hearing a tremendous uproar from behind us, we turned and saw all of the other four members of the expedition applauding us. "Oh, shut up, you guys!" Midnight Expedition said, laughing over his tears. "We're trying to have some privacy!" But we couldn't help it, and we burst into laughter as well.

From then on, we were friends. Even at Mount Fyre, a volcano where the cure to the frozen dragons grew, he still held on. There, I was captured by several magma dragons who suspended me and the rest of the team above the glowing, burning lava. Midnight Expedition was asked to choose between me and the others. I begged him to forget about me and do the right thing, and, with tears in his eyes, he did. As soon as he said he would pick the team, the magma dragons returned everyone, including me. They said he was worthy to take the Summer Fyre Berry (which grew in an island in the center of the lava pool that existed in the volcano), and we had the cure to the berry that had frozen Violet Dawn, Gentle Wind Rider, and Mystic Desert Stone.

Unfortunately, when we got back, Midnight Expedition discovered that Sparkling Alpine spring had tried to cheat on him. She had gone bounding off to try to impress The Limerian Christmas, a gold tinsel that had no interest in being mates with someone as childish like her. As she cried hopelessly behind him, The Limerian Christmas dully told Midnight Expedition that she had tried many ways to seduce him, and that despite the fact that she had two children with Midnight Expedition he should stop being her mate.

He agreed, and as she shrieked in despair, he went angrily to Isendae Anamatus and told him of the unfaithfulness. He immediately broke off all ties with Sparkling Alpine Spring, and despite my rising hope, I still felt sorry for the poor dragon. She took all of her anger on me, but I held my head up high and told her that it wasn't my fault. Snarling, she stormed off to her two-finned bluna and shallow water dragon friends; I did not care a bit for her.

About a week later, Midnight Expedition finally came to me. I was picking berries in the woods when he came out of nowhere, appearing right next to me. "Umm…Gentle Moonlit Sky…" he said with a smile so big it I knew what he was going to say. He bowed to me, offered me a beautiful rose-like flower, blushed, and asked, "Will you be my mate?"

It was the best day of my life. Yelping with joy, I flung myself onto him, and he laughed as we fell down onto the soft grass. "Yes yes yes yes yes yes!" I said, and as we got up again, I was jumping up and down excitedly. "It's settled then! Let's have the ceremony on the top of Moonlight Mountain!" he said, and as I looked into his shining emerald eyes that were filled with happiness. "I'll tell Isendae Anamatus right now!"

For the rest of the day, we milled around the forest, picking flowers for each other. Occasionally, birds twittered around us, almost seeming to congratulate us for our success. We twined our tails as we lay around the sunny, treeless clearings that were common in the forest, and we talked about anything and everything and got to know each other, making up for two years of each of us trying to ignore the other one. Often, for no reason, we would burst out laughing, and we even dozed off side by side occasionally.

Eventually, the sun went down. Flying back to the clan camp, we were greeted by many cheering dragons, all applauding our happy feelings. In fact, the only dragon that wasn't in sight was Sparkling Alpine Spring, but all of her brethren and her friends had come (and even her 2 sons, who had refused to call her their mother anymore), apparently ignoring her pleas to help her conspire against us. However, I didn't even think about her, and I simply ignored her when she finally decided to show up and sulk at me.

The day of the ceremony came, and most of the clan traveled up to the top of Moonlight Mountain, even the dragons that hated the cold. Isendae Anamatus led the mating ceremony. Although I was nervous at first, Midnight Expedition's face, beaming with pride and joy, made me relax.

Taking out some sort of scroll of which he kept all of the records of mates on, he used some sort of magic to make a large, red line through the part that said 'Midnight Expedition – Sparkling Alpine Spring'. Then, keeping it open, he put it to the side of him, turning to face us.

All was quiet as he said, "Midnight Expedition and Gentle Moonlit Sky, do you hereby agree that it is of your own independent choice to become mates, and that you were not forced or threatened by each other?" We nodded simultaneously.

"Midnight Expedition, do you solemnly swear to be faithful to your mate, to never fancy another dragon, to properly provide for any hatchlings that you may have, and to make sure that you never dishonor her by neglecting your duties or being cowardly in battle?" Midnight Expedition nodded, and he could barely keep his face straight; it was full of happiness. "I do," he replied.

"Gentle Moonlit Sky, do you solemnly swear to be faithful to your mate, to never try to seduce another dragon," Pausing slightly, he nodded his head off towards Sparkling Alpine Spring, who let out another shriek of rage. He waited for everyone to calm down, and continued, "To be a proper mother dragon to any hatchlings and eggs that you and your mate may bear, and to never dishonor him by neglecting your duties to your clan and to he himself?"

Feeling my heart swell with love and joy, I nodded and said, my voice quivering with emotion, "I do." Isendae Anamatus nodded and turned to the rest of the clan. All was still (except Sparkling Alpine Spring) as he etched in a new line on the parchment, using his magical powers to write, "Midnight Expedition – Gentle Moonlit Sky." Nobody cared that it was in the middle of the night and that a chilly, mountainous breeze was blowing around the area.

"Then I proclaim," he said loudly, and everyone watched as he continued, "Midnight Expedition and Gentle Moonlit Sky to be mates! May they have a long, lasting relationship, may they have many children, and may they be useful, loyal, and contributing members to their clan!"

Everyone cheered as Midnight Expedition and I wrapped ourselves around each other and proceeded to walk towards the crowd. Although Sparkling Alpine Spring was spitting and seething with rage, no one seemed to care. We were too busy with enjoying ourselves and each other…

Stopping in the center of the large gathering of dragons, Midnight Expedition said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "You know what, Isendae Anamatus? I appreciate you saying everything about being loyal, productive, and having a good relationship and all, but I'm not sure about having lots of _children_! Gentle Moonlit Sky and I need to…umm…think that out first!"

Among roars of laughter and amusement, Isendae Anamatus chuckled and replied, "Well, Midnight Expedition, whatever you chose, I do hope you will enjoy many happy days with Gentle Moonlit Sky! I do happen to know your history with…her, I'm glad for all of you!" He seemed to aim that at Sparkling Alpine Spring, who, obviously, was not happy. Still, nobody cared about her. She shouldn't even have been here.

And with that, we proceeded to walk down a narrow path to the ledge, where, two weeks ago, Midnight Expedition had ordered everyone to camp out on the first night of the journey. There, we found a great feast of mountain goats, deer, and fruit awaiting us, and as we began eating, I remained buried in Midnight Expedition.

"Not hungry?" he asked, but I looked at him fondly with my amber eyes. "Ha," I said, and he seemed to smile. "I'm not hungry for food. I'm hungry for you!" Laughing, he said, "Well, you can have as much of me as you want later, but for right now; eat some of the deer before it's all gone! It's delicious, and it's running out quickly!


	3. Midnight Jubilante - My Frustration

Midnight Jubilante - My Frustration

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Midnight Jubilante, one of my clan's leaders, is trying to explain why she doesn't trust me.

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Written 10/1/12.

* * *

I don't know how to start, Beacker. There are many things that I could say right now. But I want you to understand this: I don't distrust you for no reason.

Sometimes, I think you're a bit rash. You quickly jump to decisions without considering the consequences and what will happen if you do them.  
Okay, I admit, I am my clan's youngest leader. I know. I'm also a bit hot-headed and stubborn. So what? I'm a good leader, you know. I don't think old Isendae and Nocte Entitae could manage the clan as well without me. Don't you agree?

Okay. That's one thing we can agree on. I know you made me leader for a purpose.

Now, back to the subject. Look, I try not to be biased, but after a while...I...I find it hard to take you seriously. You sometimes fail to see things that everyone else doesn't miss. Take our lineage search, for example. You want our clan's snatchers to bring back eggs for us to check the lineage. If they aren't good, we have to abandon them.

What? You don't see anything wrong? Beacker! Don't you know how much you're overworking our snatchers? Paragon II, Avignant of Cicon II, and all the other snatcher dragons have to spend their days climbing in and out of that portal to go to the main cave. They hardly have time to be with their friends and have some free time! Don't you see this?

Maybe you don't because you're not a dragon. You're merely a human that spends your time supervising us-through a paper record! You don't see all the real work that's done behind that flimsy parchment scroll that you use to keep track of us! You don't see all the hard work that's being put into running the clan! Don't you see what I mean?

Fine. I'll calm down. But you get my point, correct?

Good.

Still. Do you see why I don't trust you now? I know more about the clan than you. Your scroll, no matter how many times it magically updates per minute, doesn't tell you it all. It doesn't tell you about our real lives. How exhausted we are. If we're hungry, or thirsty, or sick, or not. Or our...relationships with other dragons.

Yes, this is another part which you do not understand. Isendae, Nocte Entitae, and I agree that you are better than most other owners. You try to pair each of us with compatible types. I appreciate that, even though you haven't paired me yet...with someone. I don't really have much time, or interest, in romance. It doesn't really matter to me.

You should see the other owners. They breed their dragons all over the place, whether the dragons like it or not. I've seen two dragons, wailing at their owner for forcing them to mate. The father was roaring at the owner, and the owner used the kill action on both the father and the mother. It happened right next to the abandoned pile of eggs at the abandon page. The cruel owner did that in front of everyone, including several hatchlings. It was very disturbing.

But, sometimes you make unsuitable mates. Like, for example, Blue Crystals of Ambaer and Silent Observer. They hated each other! In fact, even though I'm not supposed to, I did observe them trying to court each other. Instead, they literally clawed each other to death!  
I get your logic. Yes, they both are related. She's a geode, he's a stone. They both sit by the clan cave's entrance, guarding it. But do you know how much they absolutely despised each other? You could've gotten them to murder each other!

Still...I have to admit that you're a great leader. I know you make decisions based on your scroll, but please, please consult me or Isendae or Nocte Entitae before you make your final choice! We know firsthand information. We can see things that your scroll doesn't tell you. We actually live in the dragcave world. You are an outsider, and you belong to a different reality than us. I'm sorry to say that. No matter how close you may be to me...to us, you are not a dragon. You do not know how it's like to be one of us. We all like you very much, but...there's a difference between being our owner and close friend and being one of us.

You know me, Beacker. I tend to get frustrated really quickly. I'm stubborn and short-tempered at times. I can get really mad over something trivial and unimportant. But, please.

We need to work together. So let's understand each other and get along.


	4. Nocte Entitae Rasvim - Halloween

Nocte Entitae Rasvim - Our First Halloween

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Nocte Entitae Rasvim, one of the leaders of my clan, tells of the halloween happenings around the clan camp and territory.

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Written 10/25/12.

* * *

Halloween approaches. I know this to be a fact.

How do I know? Everyone insists on telling me so. After all, I am one of the leaders of the over 200 dragons that make up my clan. Somebody was bound to tell me of the news. Just a few minutes ago Midnight Jubilante, another one of the clan leaders, stopped by to wish me a "Scary Halloween, Nocte Entitae!"

But there is another way that I know. I know because of the abandoned pile. I have been there countless of times, but not recently. Back when the clan was young, when it was only old Isendae, Albastre, and I, I was in charge of getting eggs from the abandoned pile. Not now. We have snatchers now. Brave dragons they are, venturing to the abandoned pile and diving right in to get us rare eggs. I admire their spirit, their resolve, how they do not hesitate to enter the dangerous conditions to take eggs. When you're trying to grab rare eggs and there are up to a hundred other snatchers, it's no easy task. It might even be dangerous. I speak from a first-hand experience. Once, I was pinned under a bloated balloon dragon. The fellow thought it would be smart of him to rise up and dive-bomb the pile. Needless to say, it was very uncomfortable being pinned under his huge mass for a few minutes until he realized I was stuck down there, choking and gasping for air.

As for the abandoned pile, my snatchers report that halloween eggs have been dropping by the masses. Paragon II and the others were the first of our clan to see a black marrow egg. It was snatched away before he could touch it. Later, he admitted it was because he was so shocked at the sight of the egg that he didn't notice a quick, nimble pygmy dragon dart under him and take it out from right under his wings. But Paragon II is an excellent snatcher. Of course he didn't take defeat for an answer! He managed to snag us another black marrow egg. It was my clan's first halloween egg. I was so proud...and a bit disgusted by the horrific, dead-decaying-body-mixed-with-swamp-waste smell the egg gave off.

Eventually, the snatcher team came back in glory. They had snatched a pumpkin egg, a half-transparent shadow walker egg (which kept disappearing, much to the annoyance of the snatcher carrying it), and another black marrow egg, which I immediately ordered to be abandoned. The putrid smell of one of those vile eggs was bad enough, not to mention three (yes, Paragon II brought back three. I still have no idea why). Besides, I did not want to be like those snobby gold-trophy users, stuffing themselves silly with eggs and leaving none for the others. Pah. One of each kind is good enough. Perhaps maybe two of those nice looking shadow-walkers, but no more than two. Those eggs disappear too much for their own good.

The whole clan crowded around the eggs, fighting to look at them. This was, indeed, our first holiday. Isendae Anamatus, Albastre Mere, and I had, unfortunately, banded together and formed a clan four days after valentine's day, and we were unable to snatch eggs, since only clans were granted portals to the abandoned pile. Eventually, fearing that someone would break the eggs, Beacker1160, Albastre Mere, and Violet Dawn (a vivacious purple dragon who had quite the reputation for being foster mother for abandoned eggs) shooed everyone away and carried the halloween eggs to the leader's cave to be kept safe. Imagine that! I protested to the best of my ability, not wanting that stinking, vile marrow egg next to where I slept, but Albastre Mere and Beacker1160 shushed me up. I guess I will just have to resort to sleeping somewhere else until that egg hatches. Oh, I will miss my cave! Even after that marrow grows up, it'll take forever for the stink to recede and fade away. I will probably have to sleep with the rest of the adults in the massive adult cave for a few weeks. Sigh.

Speaking of caves, several of my clan's dragons have decided to spruce up the adult cave, medicine cavern, nursery, and the camp in general. Witewing, one of the eldest dragons of the clan, put pumpkins up all around his medicine cavern. I never knew my dear friend Witewing liked pumpkins. Now I know. He isn't the only one, however. All of the pymy dragons have joined forces, invading all sorts of places and decorating them with multitudes assorted pumpkins, carved, uncarved, or somewhere in between. One even had a flaming candle in it (I have a feeling it was stolen from Beacker1160's pockets by our resident misfit pymgies). Ariele the Pumpkin Expert, a pygmy hatchling, has been generously donating her pumpkins to our food storage, though not many dragons would want to eat them (the pymies mainly launch giant raids on the undefended food storage cave and steal them for their said decoration campaign). Just today I nearly tripped over a very nicely carved pumpkin that vaguely resembled my face, but with a disgusted sort of look. I carried it to the leader's den and put it there as a reminder to the others that I seriously do not approve of that marrow egg and its horrific stench in my cave.

Another thing I have found to be very funny and interesting are the constumes that have magically appeared on the dragons a few days ago. Midnight Jubilante awoke with some sort of red leather cowl and cloak. Isendae Anamatus laughed and laughed until she pointed out that he had cobwebs all over him. After spending several hours attempting to remove them with various methods (including, or so as it was rumored, lighting them on fire), Isendae finally admitted defeat and conceded that for some reason, these magical halloween costumes could not be removed.

Many of the other dragons have these ridiculous costumes. I, myself, have not been cursed with them, however. But there are those who are very unlucky. I just walked past Sir Fromage d'Affinois, one of our cheese dragons, and I noted that he looked more like a dalmation than a magical cheese sculpture infused with life. My dear friend Witewing himself looked like a wizard, hat, staff, and all. In fact, all of the white dragons looked like wizards. Now I finally know where they get all their famous healing magic from.

But these are nothing compared to some of the others. Windy Autumn Night and Chilly Autumn Evening, two night glory drakes, both had black hoods and a scythe. They almost emanated death as I passed them. However, the effect was somewhat diminished due to Windy Autumn Night hysterically shrieking that she did not want to look like the grim reaper and Chilly Autumn Evening trying to calm her down. Somehow, I have a feeling that it would be quite a while before I see anything like that again. The pillow, tinsel, and royal blues also have very, very ridiculous looks. Gentle Moonlit Sky, a royal blue and a former assistant, seemed to me like a giant ladybug, while Sir Lucere II, another royal blue, looked suspiciously like a bee. The pillow dragon males continued to sleep right through their costume change, despite the uproar of laughter at their pink clothes and red-dyed wings. The tinsels were also cursed with similar red wings, though they made a joke out of it. Frosty Festive Holidays even decided to hang christmas baubles on his wings, and walked around with them until Albastre Mere kindly reminded him that it was, indeed, not christmas and that he should consider some other halloween-related decoration. Later, I walked by him and noticed miniature hollow pumpkins on his wings. Some of them had pygmies inside, hanging along for the ride. They waved at me as I burst out laughing. The silver tinsel apparently had become the pygmy express.

But the strangest costumes of all were the horse dragons, the water dragons, the balloon dragons and the alt blacks. Earlier during the day I spied The Satellite, a shy and isolated horse dragon. She looked like a neglected dragon. Indeed, she told me, she did feel as if her costume was neglected by whoever drew it, for it was absolutely humiliating. The water dragon males aren't much better. Their scales have magically turned into red and black stripes. Not good if you're looking for a female water dragon to court. Not good at all. The balloon dragons turned into inflatable tigers. Now I am really glad it wasn't halloween when I got stuck under that particular one at the abandoned page. Being sat on by a huge, round inflatable tiger is not a very fun experience.

The black alts have been cursed as well. Frozen Midnight Sky looked like a...combination of several animals and items, respectively. He had a feathered tail decorated with deep cyan plumage, along with a second set of what appears to be papery wings. But the funniest thing of all is his mouth-err, beak. Every time he tries to talk, it comes out as a squawk. Nevertheless, he was at least able to communicate that he absolutely abhorred his costume and that no matter what he tried, he couldn't get the beak off (hopefully he did not try to burn it off, like Isendae Anamatus). In fact, I must remind myself to request that the pygmies carve a pumpkin with a disgusted face for Frozen Midnight Sky, so he can put it on top of his beak to show his disapproval of the recent addition to his body.

All in all, the halloween is progressing nicely. I have the luxury of sitting on top of a tree at the evening, watching the various, ridiculously dressed dragons go about their daily hunting. Midnight Jubilante is brave enough to venture out and lead the clan with Isendae. However, some are not. I have recently found Early Autumn Summerfang, a summer seasonal dragon, hiding at the back of the adult's den, dressed in a grass skirt. He wouldn't come out no matter how hard I tried to persuade him. I don't blame him. If I was forced to wear a grass skirt, I would hide in the back of the leader's cave, too. Wait, no. I'm not getting within a dozen feet of that marrow egg, sitting in my cave. Fortunately, I am not wearing a grass skirt. Otherwise, I would have to commence making a list of possible hiding places far, far away from the other dragons and civilization in general.

With the addition of the new halloween eggs, the clan camp has an excited feeling in the air. I firmly, firmly ordered that no previous eggs shall be abandoned to make room for more halloween eggs. Part of my decision was because it wouldn't be fair for the other, non-halloween eggs. The other reason was because I have a hunch that if the normal eggs were abandoned, Paragon II would continue to torture me by bringing back one marrow egg after another and placing them all around the camp. Maybe I do need to make a list of far, far away sleeping places, so I can evacuate if more marrow eggs invade the camp.

So, the horrific marrow eggs, the curse of the ridiculous costumes, and the pymy pumpkin campaign. All because of the upcoming halloween. You know what? I can't wait for the halloween night. Then, after the crazy grab for halloween eggs, all of this will be over. No more strange costumes. No more tripping over pumpkins in all sorts of strange places. And, of course, no more marrow egg stinking up my leader's den(I shall just have to resort to keeping that marrow adult away from my cave).

Halloween approaches. And I know this to be a fact.


	5. Nocte Entitae Rasvim - Of Pumpkins & Etc

Nocte Entitae Rasvim - Of Pumpkins, Schmumpkins, & The Society of Pygmy Pumpkin Worshipers

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Nocte Entitae Rasvim, one of the leaders of my clan, tells a humorous story about pumpkins.

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Written 10/26/12.

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Pah. It's halloween season. You know, the usual. Halloween dragon eggs everywhere, released en masse. Dragons dressed up in ridiculous costumes. Decorations galore.

And of course, pumpkins. I don't know who started it, but nowadays, you can't have a halloween without having pumpkins. I don't mean a few pumpkins, I mean lots of pumpkins. Pumpkins everywhere! In the caves, in the dens, all over the camp, and in extremely conspicuous places where you may or may not trip on them!

And it's not only just pumpkins. Apparently, somebody, who may or may not be the person who came up with this whole pumpkin craze, invented pumpkin carvings! Now, to add to the dreadful orange things getting in my way and tripping me all the time, I have to endure double the embarrassment because they all have those little goofy faces! I swear, I once even tripped over a pumpkin with my own face carved into it! It was humiliating!

So, as I was saying. Pumpkins. They've popped up everywhere. I see them all the time. Not a single day goes by that I do not pass a pumpkin, see a pumpkin, smell a pumpkin, trip over a pumpkin, or, if I am really unlucky, be forced to eat a pumpkin. Yes, those annoying pumpkin enthusiasts always say that pumpkins are good for my health. Blehh. They taste raw and disgusting. How are they going to be 'beneficial for my health' if their bad taste kill me first?

I do not like the idea of dining on a gourmet pumpkin that has my own face carved on it. That would not only be strange, but socially unacceptable as well (or so I have guessed. I once heard a rumor that it is now taboo to eat a pumpkin resembling your face).  
However, these pumpkins have not just popped up by themselves. There must be some cruel, evil mastermind behind this whole scheme of using pumpkins to embarrass everyone to death. Of course there must be! I can already imagine who he (or she) looks like: an evil person sneaking amongst the shadows at midnight, placing pumpkins in awkward places for you to trip on! They might even carve ugly faces on them to make them twice as gruesome, or put one of those silly wax candles inside.

But no. There is no evil mastermind. Or, to be correct, there is no one evil mastermind. Instead, I see this gang of my own clan's pygmy dragons sneaking around at obscene hours of the night, carrying large stacks of pumpkins and stashing them around the camp. I have half a mind, when I see this horror, to pack up my belongings, tip-toe past them and out of the camp, and run away to a far, far away land where they have never heard of pumpkins, seen a pumpkin, tripped over a pumpkin, tasted a pumpkin, or use pumpkins in any form or shape at all.  
However, unfortunately, I am one of the leader of my clan, and no matter how much I wish to do that, I cannot. It is, as everyone knows, quite rude to just disappear in the middle of the night when everyone needs you to run the clan. As if I can even run the clan. As soon as I start running, I'll trip over a pumpkin.

So I am helplessly stuck in this morbid camp full of pumpkins. Pumpkins lurking around the corner. Pumpkins sneaking around at night. Pumpkins with scary faces. Pumpkins with creepy faces. Pumpkins with faces that are somewhere between creepy and scary. Giant pumpkins, and tiny pumpkins. Red pumpkins! Blue pumpkins! Hot pink pumpkins!

All because of those dumb pygmy dragons! They think pumpkins are the answer to everything. Feeling sick? Eat a pumpkin! Feeling drowsy? Eat a pumpkin! Feeling sad? Eat a pumpkin! Eat eat eat! Oh and, trying to act regal in front of all of your friends? Trip over a pumpkin! I don't know what makes those pygmies so crazy about pumpkins. Maybe because they both start with P? Maybe because pumpkins, like pygmies, are annoying, like to trip others, and pop up to scare you when you least expect it? I don't know!

But, even among all the evil pygmy pumpkin masterminds, there a group of pygmies I cannot stand at all. They are a secret society dedicated to worshipping a great carved pumpkin god with a scary face or something along those lines. They call themselves 'The Society of Pygmy Pumpkin Enthusiasts'. Pah. They don't need such a fancy name. I just call them 'A Bunch of Annoying Little Prats That Go Around Placing Pumpkins In Awkward And Unexpected Locations'. I don't know what's gotten into those pygmy pumpkin worshippers. Before the halloween period they were ok, and now that halloween is coming around they've all suddenly switched from their normal, not-pumpkin-obsessed selves to 'extremely obsessed with pumpkins and everything related to the said vegetable'.

I've tried my best to stop these overly enthusiastic pygmies. I've taken every pumpkin I found and put it into a locked cave. To keep those pygmies out, I even took some parchment and asked Beacker1160 to write, "500-YEAR-OLD BLUE CHEESE STORAGE". Then I stuck it on the locked door. Everyone knows that pygmies hate 500 year old blue cheese. Or, at least I do. I don't know, it could be green cheese or hot-pink cheese, but I'm pretty sure it was blue cheese. Besides taking all the pumpkins I could find and stashing them away, I've also done daily night explorations around the camp, trying to find where those obnoxious PPEs get their pumpkins from. So far, all that I've accomplished is getting within 50 feet of those crazy worshippers before they started chucking miniature pumpkins at my head.

Speaking of those miniature pumpkins, I've discovered another horrid thing of those Pygmy Pumpkin Enthusiasts: they have invented something they call the Automatically Bursting Easy To Make Pumpkin Bomb To Deter Annoying Spies Who Attempt To Steal Our Holy Pumpkin Secrets (or ABETMPBTDASWATSOHPS), but what I will call the Schmumpkin. Basically, the schmumpkins are little, hollowed-out miniature pumpkins filled with anything from rotten egg yolks to smelly pumpkin paste to even smaller hollowed-out pumpkins. Those insane pygmies, when conducting nightly pumpkin-placing operations, will voraciously throw these schmumpkins at intruders attempting to spy on them. This includes, but is not limited to: spies, assassins, pumpkin haters, pumpkin thieves (honestly, I cannot imagine who would want to steal pumpkins), sleepwalking dragons, enemy saboteurs, and, unfortunately, me. So far, I've been hit by a rotten egg yolk one, a green bean filled one, a steamed carrot one, a shiny metal needle one (that was a particularly painful one), and a schmumpkin filled with what seemed to be angry bees or hornets, though I don't know exactly which because I started running right after the hostile insect bomb landed on my nose.

As you can see, I have tried everything in the line of duty to stop these PPE maniacs from destroying the camp with pumpkins. I have removed every single pumpkin I have seen (though I do believe I have tripped over several invisible pumpkins), I have attempted to spy on those pygmies to see their source so I can destroy it (and gotten about three dozen insect stings on my nose), and I have even attempted to mix up a potion that will eradicate all the pumpkins within fifty miles of where I activate it (though that has resulted in quite a few explosions from the leader's den)! I have tried all I can, and yet, those pesky pumpkins elude me so! They creep up on me and sneak up on me and fall down on me (and make me fall down)! Every time I think I have wiped out the pumpkins, they come back, thanks to that good-for-nothing crazy-pumpkin-god-worshipping group The Society of Pygmy Pumpkin Enthusiasts!

But there is one thing I can do. I can officially order these rascal pygmies to stop. I am their leader, after all, and they are the rulers of the pumpkins! If I order them to stop, then they will have to order the pumpkins to stop, and then I will not have problems with pumpkins anymore! But, alas, I cannot! For some reason, the two other leaders of the clan, Isendae Anamatus and Midnight Jubilante, think it's funny! Isendae laughs at the pumpkins' so-called 'funny faces'. Midnight Jubilante chuckles whenever I trip over one, right in front of everybody! I can't officially order the Pygmy Pumpkin Enthusiasts to stop because I've got to get Isendae Anamatus and Midnight Jubilante to agree, and I can already tell you, that's harder than avoiding those creepy pumpkins!

You know what? I can't wait for halloween to be over.


	6. Nocte Entitae Rasvim - Winter of E H

Nocte Entitae Rasvim - Winter of the Egg Huggers

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Nocte Entitae Rasvim, one of the leaders of my clan, tells a humorous story of one dragon's way of keeping warm.

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Written 11/23/12.

* * *

As any sensible dragon knows, winter is coming. And winter, in my opinion is too cold. And too snowy. And too blizzard-y. And too...you get the point. But I've always lived through the winters fine enough. Sure, my nose gets too cold, and when I sit still as a statue during the day, the bottom part of my body freezes, but I've always survived. That much cannot be said of some of the other dragons. I am sick and tired of hearing the summer seasonals wailing and complaining that winter is too cold. Of course the winter is cold!

Once, I tried to cheer them up by throwing a snowball at them. Later, I thoroughly regretted it as I turned into a statue as the rising sun shone on me. Well, I was doing something in the middle of the camp, and I turned to 'stone' as the sunlight spilled out from behind the trees. As I pondered my philosophical thoughts, waiting for the morning to pass by, I suddenly heard several dragons walking up behind me. Then, I felt the cold sensation of snow being packed on my wings. "Hey! Nobody dares to do that to a clan leader," I thought indignantly. I didn't know who it was, since I couldn't change my eye direction, but then after whoever it was thoroughly covered my wings in snow, they did it to the rest of my body. Turns out, it was those summer seasonals! I didn't know I made them that angry by throwing one single snowball at them. But apparently, they were so mad, they turned me into an extra-large version of the snowball that I threw. As the day went by, everyone wondered why there was a giant ball of hard-packed snow in the center of the camp. It took me hours to get out of there after the sun set, and I was shivering uncontrollably for days after.

The winter seasonals are at least more fun. They have snowball fights. They scare their fellow dragons by hiding in the snow next to the camp entrance and bursting out as their clanmates pass by. They gather big, flat pieces of tree bark and have 'bark races' down the mountain hills, riding on the bark and dodging the tall trees. And guess what? The champion of all of the seasonals gets to...throw a snowball at a clan leader. Which would be me. It was me last year and the year before that, since Isendae Anamatus and Midnight Jubilante, the other two leaders, always seem to be 'busy'.

The red dragons are always pranking these races by walking up and down the hill and melting snow with their fire to create 'quicksand' places that the bark sleds would fall into and break. As a result, last year one of the seasonals went missing. We had to search for two days through all of the mush piles, and we finally found him buried under one of them, melting snow for water and trying to eat rocks. Why he couldn't get out by himself still remains a mystery to this day. My current guess is that he just didn't want to do his chores and duties, though I can't imagine them being so horrific that he'd rather eat rocks and break all his teeth.

The ice dragons are the most brilliant crafters I have ever seen. They can make ice sculptures of almost anything, but sadly, not a lot of them are artistic. However, I recently persuaded one of them to make a sculpture for me. It could be anything he wanted. Three hours later, I returned to find that he had made a humiliating mini-figurine of me getting hit by that snowball from last year. I took it, thanked him hastily, and then ran to the bark racing hills to put it in the snow before anyone could see it. Hopefully the red dragons would have accidentally melted it by now.

The biggest event by far would be Christmas, but that has not come yet. That's good, because I haven't figured out where I can hide from everyone else and live my life in isolation as long as those ridiculous costumes stay on me. Isendae Anamatus and Midnight Jubilante can lead the clan without me for a week or two. Fortunately, last year I was not afflicted by those accursed costumes, but I cannot be sure this year. If I wake up in the leader's den with a santa hat and a balloon-dragon sized belly, my influence will be ruined.

Another aspect of Christmas is the decoration of the camp. Midnight Jubilante is very adamant that the camp will absolutely be decorated for Christmas. She has already had everything planned - Christmas tree in the center of the clearing, wreaths over every cave, and decorated pine trees at the entrance to the camp. I'm all in for it, as long as that ice dragon doesn't make more of those figurines and hangs them up with the ornaments on the trees. That would possibly be the only thing worse than me dressed up as Santa Claus being pulled on a bark sled down the hill by a bunch of seasonals disguised as reindeer.

There will be a lack of food supply for the winter, so all of the clan members are working together to hunt prey and store it in the chilly food storage, located in a freezing cavern underneath the camp. Even the leaders have to help, which is regrettable because I was busy looking like I was planning fight tactics (even though we aren't currently fighting with anyone) while I was actually planning places to hide. So, instead of my own personal interest, I had to put the clan interest ahead of me. Which apparently means finding the hiding spots of prey instead of finding my own. At least I don't have to do that too much, because I can only move around at night.

Speaking of which, nobody really likes going out at night now. Don't ask me why. Maybe they're being nice to me by staying away from me at night, so I can live my life as pseudo-Santa Claus without being humiliated for the whole entire week that the costume stays on me. Or maybe it's because everyone wants to get their sleep while they still can, before they have to get up at dawn to hunt elk and deer and whatever else they could find. There's a rumor going around that one of the black dragons brought back a bear, or at least a big brown animal of some sort. Maybe he got one of those poor seasonals, dressed up as brown reindeer.

But perhaps the most interesting thing of all is what the pygmies are doing. A while ago, Isendae Anamatus issued an order to get more red dragons for the clan. Apparently, as the weather got cold, the pygmies saw those red eggs and got an idea. They snuck in the nursery in the middle of the night and stole the red eggs, and snuck them away to their nests in the adult cave. One of the females found the eggs missing in the morning and raised the alarm, and the whole camp was searched, including the leader's den. How disrespectful! I loudly proclaimed my right to privacy, but they waved me away and looked through my cave. Humph!

Eventually, they found those pygmies sleeping on the eggs, looking content as the red eggs' warmth seeped into them. They had a peculiar way of resting, almost as if they were hugging the eggs. Hah! Egg huggers! I wondered why I hadn't thought of that idea before, but then I realized that if I sat on a red egg, it would probably explode messily, and I'm really not in the mood to clean up splattered eggs. I guess I shall just have to find a huge red egg to be my bed for the rest of the winter. Or I simply need to keep a fire going in my den. But then again, I'm far too lazy to do that.

Anyway, it's not quite Christmas yet, so the trees aren't set up (and those humiliating ornaments haven't been made), the wreaths aren't decorated, and (thankfully) the annual bark races haven't started. This year, I'll make sure Isendae Anamatus or Midnight Jubilante gets hit by the snowball. They won't be able to use me anymore. Oh, no, no, no! This year I will quietly tip-toe out of the camp in the middle of the night and fly to my pre-arranged hiding place, where I will live the rest of the week in quiet paradise, hunting my own food and ignoring my own Santa Claus self.

There is just one problem with this otherwise magnificent plan. And it is known as...weather. The winters in our clan are horrific. Since our clan camp is on a forest ridge on the northern mountain range of the territory, we start getting blizzards at around November, and snow before that. Alas, I do not fancy being all alone, at night, up in a mountain where even shouting can set off avalanches, for one whole week. I guess I will just have to take that snowball to the face for yet another year. And the costumes. And the little ice figurines that give me those bad memories of last year, and the year before that, and the year before that...

I can't wait for spring to arrive.


	7. The Sickly Hatchling - My Story

The Sickly Hatchling - My Story

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The Sickly Hatchling, a severely inbred and disabled hatchling, tells of his life and his thoughts on death.

* * *

Written 10/5/12

* * *

For some reason, death is a comforting thing to me.

I know it will come. It is not a matter of if it will come or not. It is a matter of when.

But I know for certain that death is waiting for me. Somewhere in the future.

And I am okay with that.

Why am I this way? What kind of psychotic dragon am I? What kind of insanity do I possess, to console myself with death, to find comfort in the thought of silently drifting away from life...?

Perhaps you would understand better if I told you a story first. A story about an egg and a hatchling.

So allow me.

There was once a red dragon egg. It had severe soft shell, and it was tinted a sickly shade yellow in places. Yet it lay in the abandoned page, among the other, healthy eggs. Nobody wanted it. They were all too busy fighting over each other for rare dragon eggs. They did not care about this particular, sick one.

The dragon that picked this egg up was a purple dragon. He was known as a jokester and a prankster, but he was good natured, sympathetic, and tender at heart. He brought this egg, with its fatal soft shell and sickly yellow tint back to his clan.

That dragon's name was Paragon II. And he was a good dragon.

The white dragons looked at the egg. They were very dismayed. But it is not in the nature of a white dragon to leave an egg to die. So they worked through the day, trying various remedies. They worked through the night, too. They didn't get any sleep. They were very desperate.

Eventually they succeeded in getting the egg to hatch. But instead of a normal hatchling, they saw a horrible, mangled, diseased hatchling weakly climb out of the shattered eggshell. They could see its bones. It was very sick.

And it had only three usable legs.

The white dragons knew, then, that this hatchling would never be able to grow up into an adult.

It would probably die.

So they called in a magi dragon. They told him that he should freeze the hatchling, to spare it misery. To spare it the pain, the agony, the horrendous torture the dragon would experience later in its life.

The magi dragon looked at the sorry hatchling. He could sense it's pain and suffering. He summoned up all of his strength and froze the hatchling with all his might, so it would not have to suffer as it grew.

That dragon's name was Merlin's Shadow. And he was a good dragon.

The white dragons released the sickly hatchling to go and play with the other hatchlings. To live with the other hatchlings. To get a glimpse of normal life before the inevitable death that would come. The death that would slowly, silently, but surely creep upon the doomed hatchling. Paralyzing limbs, organs, everything...

As the other hatchlings grew, the sickly hatchling was very confused. How come it didn't get bigger, too? It wanted to be like its friends. Fortunately, the other hatchlings were very nice to the sickly hatchling. They sensed its plight. They pitied it. They tried to go slowly during their hatchling games, so that the sickly hatchling could play, too.

But the sickly hatchling always collapsed after several steps, too exhausted to continue. And then one of the female dragons would come over and shoo the others away, carrying the sickly hatchling back to the nursery to rest in the soft, grassy nests.

The sickly hatchling eventually grew older. He was permanently frozen in his young, hatchling stage, but his mind progressed. His brain, stricken by the disease, but nevertheless strong, began to learn the truth. That he was an inbred dragon. That his disease was inherited. That it was not his fault, but there was nothing anyone could do, and that he should enjoy life while he could.

And that he would eventually, inevitably die.

The sickly hatchling finally understood everything. It understood why the other hatchlings pitied him, and tried to be nice to him, and to let them join in on the little hatchling games that they played. It finally understood why the females were extra-special to him, why they payed more attention to him than the others.

And it finally understood that it would never grow up. It would never have a mate, or kids of its own. That it would never get to live a full life, the life that it deserved, the life that it was denied.

The dragon began to deny the company of others. It decided to let the others live their lives. It did not want to impede the others. It did not want to make them slow down during their games. It did not want to prevent them from getting the full attention of their mothers. It wanted them to have their full, sweet lives, not disturbed by it.

And that was when the hatchling discovered the forest.

It had always heard the birds. When it was tired, and resting, exhausted from the games where it could only run with three legs while the other hatchlings used all four, it heard the birdsong. He heard the gentle swishing, the harmonious humming, the melody of the forest. But it had never had the strength to go there.

And now it was determined to do just that.

Gradually, it worked up the strength. It often suffered pain. Once, a female dragon found it collapsed right by the camp entrance, too tired to drag himself back, unconscious with the sheer effort it took. And it was painful for the sickly hatchling as it recovered from the massive shock and exhaustion.  
Sometimes it was so painful the hatchling begged for death. It begged for death to release it from the endless suffering that its cruel life inflicted upon it.

But it never gave up. Against the wishes of the females, who insisted for it to get more rest, it tried again. And again.  
And again.

The females watched it with pity. They did not want to stop him from reaching his goal. Not when his life was so limited. They admired his determination, his preservation. They had never seen anything work as hard as it did. They silently cheered him on.

The hatchlings, too, came to watch. They applauded when it managed to go a foot, or even an inch, longer than before. They brought him food to eat, and water to drink, and flowers and fruits to keep him company. And the sickly hatchling was reminded that no matter what, it would always be loved and supported.

Eventually, the sickly hatchling made it. Everyone rejoiced, but they left him alone, so that he could be at peace. They went back to playing their little hatchling games or talking with their mates and leaders and friends.

And the little sickly hatchling was able, at last, to find the place where he belonged.

It would watch the birds. The brightly plumaged birds, hopping from branch to branch, singing their equally bright and cheerful songs. The animals, curiously looking at him, darting from bush to bush, tree to tree. The sunlight, filtering through the leaves, creating intricate patterns on the soft, forest floor.

But it was mostly the overwhelmingly peaceful feeling. The sickly hatchling could lie among the pine needles, mossy logs, and pebbly river banks. It had nobody pitying it. It had nobody to bother it. It had nobody to tell it what to do.

And it was the happiest, then. It was at peace with life. It was at peace with itself. There was no pain to suffer, no agony to torture it, while it was in the forest, with its birds and animals and gentle sunlight.

The other dragons knew of the sickly hatchling. They saw him, satisfied, always happy, always content. Dragging himself through the camp entrance and to the nursery for food and sleep. Dragging himself back out to the forest, to enjoy the sights, smells, gentle, natural melodies...

And they began to learn from him. Whenever they complained about their hunting, or how busy they were, or how worried they got, they only had to think of the little sickly hatchling, dragging itself among the pine needle floor, happy, relaxed, and carefree. They only had to think of his suffering when he was young, his agony, his pain. And they felt lucky and relaxed and happy, too. It was admired by many dragons. And its hatchling friends felt happy for it. And the females that cared for him were proud.

I am that hatchling.

I am The Sickly Hatchling.


	8. Wicked Inside - Wicked Inside's Plea

Wicked Inside - Wicked Inside's Plea

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Wicked Inside, a frozen hatchling, is pleading for help and release from an evil spirit that possesses him and forces him to commit violent acts at random.

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Written 9/30/12.

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My name is Wicked Inside. I am a dorsal hatchling.

I am locked in a cave, isolated from the others, kept in the dark.

I think they have a good reason to keep me away from everyone else.

I am possessed. By something. I don't know what exactly. But I know that it is malevolent. That it is evil.

When I was first laid as an egg, my father was a marrow dragon. Against the wishes of my purple dorsal mother, he performed some sort of evil ritual on me. Some sort of spirit came to my body and resided in me, sharing the egg. It whispered to me. It sometimes made me do things I didn't want to do. Sometimes it made me kick the eggshell from inside, nearly shattering it and killing me.

But somehow, my marrow father grew dissatisfied. The spirit wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. It was becoming independent. So one day, he dumped me into the abandoned pile. I was one egg upon hundreds. I remembered hearing my father leave, hearing him mumbling in disgust. But the spirit didn't mind. And although I knew it was evil and it kept taking over my body, it at least provided me some company. We sometimes even talked together, though not much.

Nobody wanted me. I was a common purple dorsal. I sat there for a day, then two...then three...but at last, I felt my eggshell being lifted into the air. The spirit, unlike I, could see. It told me about the person who grabbed me. The spirit did not like the person. I did not like him either.

The person took my egg to a remote mountain. The spirit said there was a small house surrounded by forests. I did not know if that was true or not. I couldn't see. But I trusted the spirit, no matter how much I hated it.

I was kept in the basement of the house for a day, according to the spirit. Sometimes the spirit would float away from my body to explore the house. I enjoyed those hours of solace, where I didn't have the evil spirit inside of me, making me do things I did not want to do. But the spirit always came back. It told me about the house and the person. I did not like the person at all.

Then one night, as I was slumbering in my egg, I felt myself being lifted. The spirit awoke, too, and floated away to see what was going on. I was scared. I could tell I was being taken outside, because the cool nighttime air flowed across my eggshell. I was being placed on the ground. The spirit came back. It seemed fearful and angry. It told me my egg was threatened.

It told me my owner wanted to have his vampire dragon bite me, to see if I would become one.

Slowly, I heard another dragon approaching. I could hear it coming closer, and it sounded hungry. I was scared. But there was nothing I could do. I couldn't move away.

The spirit saved me.

Right before the vampire dragon sank its fangs into my eggshell, the spirit left me and did something to the dragon. It lashed out, choking the vampire dragon, killing it. I felt the sickly blood that the vampire dragon had sucked out of its latest victim splash across my eggshell.

But it was over. The spirit had killed the vampire dragon. It had saved me from death.

The human was angry beyond belief. He took a hammer and tried to smash my eggshell. But again the spirit saved me. It made him hit himself with the hammer repeatedly. Then, after he had knocked himself out, the spirit levitated me, and we flew above the mountains. For days we traveled across the land, back to where we came from.

We landed in the abandoned pile. I had a mere two days left to live.

Then a purple dragon picked me up several hours later. The spirit seemed to like the purple dragon better, though it still had its old, malevolent, evil feeling. At first I thought the spirit was going to kill the purple dragon. But it seemed to approve of him, and let him carry me to his clan's territory.

I was sent to the white dragons. The clan was very large. The spirit flew away and returned half an hour later. He told me that the clan had over two hundred dragons. That was a lot compared to the lone human or my marrow and dorsal parents, living in the wild.

I did not like the white dragon who examined me. The spirit didn't like it either. I think the white dragon sensed something was wrong. He might have detected the spirit. But he merely waved me off and sent me to the female mother dragons to incubate me.

I hatched five hours later.

The cool, mountain air felt good against my scales, coated with my egg liquid. The spirit was inside me again. I felt strange outside of my eggshell. The mother dragon nursed me, along with its own babies, who peeked curiously at me. The spirit did not like those babies, or the mother. It did not like anyone at all.

As I grew, the spirit sometimes made me do things. The other dragons became scared of me. The spirit made me stare at them for hours. I did not want to stare at them. I wanted to go play with the other hatchlings. But the spirit forced me to. It was boring. I did not like the looks the other dragons gave me. Like I was violating their privacy. Like I was creepy.

Then the things started happening.

One night, the spirit woke me. I was half asleep. The spirit controlled my body, guiding it out of the nursery, forcing me down the moonlit camp towards the forest. I felt strangely alert, and every one of my muscles felt rested and anxious to attack something. The spirit did strange things to me. It made me crouch stealthily. I could see a guardian dragon in the distance, keeping watch on the camp's entrance. The spirit made me sneak up on it. I felt nothing but the desire to sink my fangs into the guardian dragon's body, to rip him apart, to cause as much injury as possible to him. Deep down, I didn't want to do it. But the spirit filled me with hatred. It controlled me. It possessed me.

I attacked the dragon. The spirit made me bite him over and over. The dragon could not see me. It wildly looked around, trying to find me. But my dorsal scales were mostly dark. My black and purple scales blended perfectly with the night. I tasted blood. I was scared. But the spirit made me keep going.

Then the guardian dragon saw my ruby-red eyes. He didn't know it was me. But the spirit knew I had been discovered. It made me run. I half sprinted, half jumped back to the nursery. I was crying. I didn't want to do that. But the spirit made me.

For weeks, the terror continued. Almost every night, I would attack another dragon. I didn't want to do it. But the spirit made me. I would bite my victims over and over, the spirit enjoying the violence, while I cried. Then I would flee. For weeks I did that.

Then one day the white dragon that the spirit hated so much tried to examine me. They knew something was wrong. They knew I disappeared at night, not of my own will, but of the spirit. It forced me. I tried calling for help as the spirit dragged me off to attack another dragon, but it would angrily force me to shut my mouth. I bit my victims. I fled. I cried as the spirit made me stealthily sneak back to the nursery and pretend to be asleep.

But as the white dragon peered into my eyes, I saw the spark of recognition. He knew I was possessed. But the spirit knew that he found my secret. The spirit made me attack him. I sank my fangs into his throat. The white dragon screamed in horror. The nearby dragons arrived. They saw my fangs coated in the white dragon's blood.

They saw me, standing over the white dragon, with the savage look in my eyes. The savage look I had when the spirit possessed me.

The spirit cackled evilly inside me while I cried. I cried as the dragons leapt onto me. I cried as they took me prisoner. I cried as they locked me inside a cave. They said I was dangerous. That I was evil. That I was a demon.

But I am not. It is the spirit. The spirit made me do it. Not me. I tried to refuse the spirit. But it was too powerful. Night after night, it forced me to attack my victims. To sneak up on them. To sink my fangs into them. To flee. To pretend to sleep, like nothing happened.

It's been a few months since they locked me inside the cave. They shove food through a narrow slit. They shove water through there, too. They hate me. I know they have a reason to hate me. They should hate me. It was right for them to lock me up, so the spirit could not use me to hurt anyone else.

But I still feel sad. I feel like it is my fault that I attacked those dragons. But I know it is the spirit that does that. I didn't want to. I wanted to be a normal hatchling, playing with the others, having fun. But the spirit made me do evil things.

The spirit sometimes flies through the slit and leaves me in peace for a few hours. The spirit is bored, so it goes to explore the camp while I lay on the damp, icy cave floor, suffering and crying. The spirit wants me to attack the other dragons. But I don't want to do that anymore.

Sometimes I am my normal self. Other times I am possessed. Sometimes the spirit possesses me so completely that I can't remember what I was doing when the spirit took over. It made me do things I didn't want to do. It made me attack the other dragons. It made me...a demon.

I need help. I need someone to come and take this evil spirit out of me. I can't bear it anymore. Soon, I am going to die. The spirit will consume me. It will take all of my life energy. Already I am growing weak in this cave, in this dark prison where the only light comes from that slit. That slit to heaven. To reality. To normal life.

All that lies between me and being any normal hatchling is the spirit. The evil, malevolent, horrible spirit. The spirit that made me attack others. The spirit that made me try to kill that white dragon.

Please, someone, come save me! I think I will go insane soon. The spirit is taking over my body. It is getting harder and harder for me to fight it. I don't want to be this way. I don't want to become a demon. But I am growing weak, and the spirit is growing stronger and stronger.

I am...wicked inside.


	9. I Set Fire To My Cave Once - ISFTMCO

I Set Fire To My Cave Once - I Set Fire To My Cave Once

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I Set Fire To My Cave Once, a red dragon, talks about setting fire to his cave once.

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Written 7/7/2013

**Author's Note: Finally! I wrote a fanfiction in one day! Ermagerd. #nomoreprocrastination #yay #settingfiretomycave**

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I set fire to my cave once.

That, really, is the first thing you should know. I set fire to my cave once, and it was a really big fire, indeed. It was so big that it almost spread to the forest next to my cave! Well, almost. It nearly did, you see, but I stopped it just in time! Well, I am lying a bit there. The rain stopped it just in time. Ahem.

Anyway. There are two questions you are probably asking right now: how did I set my cave on fire, and why was my cave flammable in the first place? Well, you see, the reason why I set my cave on fire is because a bug landed on my nose while I was disposing of some fish scales. Why would I have fish scales? Well, I live near the ocean, you see, and I had gone down to the beach and fished that day. How does a dragon fish? With a pole, of course, but I reel it in with magic because my hands were too busy holding the fish I caught.

After I got back from the sea, I had myself a really nice meal of fish. The problem with fish, though, is that they have scales. Why do they have scales? You will have to ask them. Anyway, I was just about to dispose of these scales when the bug landed on my nose. Then I sneezed. Unfortunately, I am a red dragon, and red dragons sneeze fire. And then my cave burned down. And the fire almost spread to the forest, but right before the first leaves caught on fire, rain came! It saved my day, though I was in a stormy mood for the rest of the week. Forgive the pun. I am not very funny. After all, I take my job as a red dragon very seriously.

Well, where might the bug, the culprit of the fire, have come from? It came from the trees next to my cave, of course. And trees must harbor bugs for a reason I do not understand. Anyway, trees obviously come from the forest that surrounds my cave. So I guess you could blame the trees for starting the fire, in a way. Which is a rather odd conclusion to make because why would a tree start a fire that could burn it down? I don't know. But speaking of trees burning down, I know you are now asking, "But then why hadn't you burned the trees down so no bugs could come?" Well, I am a red dragon, you see, and therefore I produce a lot of smoke. And trees purify the air, right? I need to breathe fresh air to make fire.

Air feeds fire, so I guess you can now accuse the air of conspiring with the trees to light my cave on fire. But without the air, there wouldn't be any atmosphere for water to evaporate into clouds. And without clouds, there would be no rain, and then the fire never would have ended! Speaking of rain, it is most annoying. It always leaks through the cracks in my cave and drips on me when I sleep. The storms are the worst! At least my cave is on a hill, so the water runs off into the ocean. And speaking of the ocean, I went fishing that day. Did I tell you about that already? Maybe. See, I can never be sure of anything because I'm too busy thinking about that time I set fire to my cave. Well! It is quite the story to tell.

Now, where were we? Oh, yes! The second question! Why was my cave flammable? Well, you have to understand that most caves are not flammable, and do not burn down when their resident red dragon sneezes because a bug from the neighboring forest lands on their nose. I used to live in a cave like that, with a few other dragons. To earn enough money to buy food, we made wooden sculptures and sold them. Why did we have to buy food? Well, you see, there were some very nasty predator dragons hogging all the prey. Why would they do that? Greed, my friend. They were all greedy, and quite rude, too. Humph. Anyway, we made wooden sculptures, you see, and one day all of us worked together on this giant one resembling one of the predator dragons. We took it outside and charged other dragons some coins to see us throw eggs at the statue of the predator dragon. It was our way of talking back to those big, nasty dragons.

Strangely, I was rather sick that day. I suppose it was because I was allergic to eggs. Well, that makes sense, because my parents were allergic to eggs, too. We could never have those delicious fried-on-the-rock eggs that the other dragon family nearby made. It was really a shame. Sigh. So the eggs were making me a bit sick, and I started to sneeze. Unfortunately, I was in the act of throwing an egg at the predator statue's face, and I instead sneezed all over it! And have I told you that we red dragons sneeze fire? Well, that statue was made of wood, you see, and it burned down! But that's not all! The fire spread, not rationally towards the forest, but instead, it took an irrational course towards our cave. Do not ask me why it did not head towards the forest like more intelligent fires. I guess my fires are different, just like me. They are probably allergic to eggs, as well.

Anyway. It headed towards our cave. This was disastrous because our bed nests were made of twigs, our shelves of pine, our sculptures out of precious soft wood. And my fire was going to eat it all up! Speaking of fires eating things, I don't understand why they are always so hungry. And they are not good cooks, either! They always overcook food and end up burning it into a crisp shade of black.

Well. Eventually, it burned up everything in our cave! And of course my cave-mates were quite mad at me! They threw me out of their cave, and told me to never come back! Well, that was harsh! It was almost as harsh as the angry predator dragons, who came and massacred them as payback for the statue two days after I left. I still remember seeing their dead bodies stacked on top of each other outside of the charred cave. It was very sad. I went to work building a hollow statue of a dragon in mourning, and put them in it. Then I set fire to it. But this time it was on purpose, to honor them. You would think that would be a bit morbid, but actually, I thought it was better than letting them rot, which is an insult. You know, I still don't know why I did that, even though they rather harshly rejected me and told me to get lost. I suppose it was for old times' sake. Anyway, I took their ashes and put them in a jar, which I put in my new cave as a memoir. I still have it now. It survived that one time I set fire to my cave. Oh yeah! That time. It's a very interesting tale. I think I was talking about it before...but-

Well! I must really get to the question of why my cave was flammable. Now, this is rather hard to explain. It involves beavers, tentacles, deep sea creatures, storms, and most unusual of all, mushrooms. Ah! Mushrooms indeed! I don't understand why they call them fungi, because it is really not fun when you accidentally eat a poisonous one. Oh, that happened to me once. Thankfully, the rest of those poisonous mushrooms that I had picked by accident were burned down in the fire that destroyed the old cave. Yay.

You see, one day a few weeks after the death of my fellow sculptors, I still did not have a home. All the caves were taken, and some very annoying pygmy dragons had moved into the old cave. How annoying were they? Well, let's just say they were obsessed pumpkins and threw them at anyone nearby. How rude. I hope that one day, one of them will be squashed by a pumpkin. Humph.

Anyway, I had to eat something, so I went down to a forest by the ocean to pick some mushrooms. I do not know why, but mushrooms grow in the forest near the sea more than they do in other places. I suppose ocean mist helps make the soil moist. I'm not exactly sure how, because you'd think ocean mist is full of salt, like the ocean. Maybe mushrooms like salt. I need to remind myself to try that next time.

So I was picking mushrooms, and I decided to take a break by the sea. Now, you would not expect red dragons to go swimming, but I actually kind of like doing that. It doesn't put out my fire, it doesn't make me shrivel up and die. Well, the salt kind of shrivels my eyes if I open them underwater, but I don't do that. It would not make any sense.

I was just swimming when a tentacle grabbed me! Ugh! That was the scariest thing ever, except that time I set fire to my cave, which I must tell you about sometime! Anyway. Well! I was not going to let some deep-sea creature get at me! I wrestled with that thing, and woe and behold, I was free! I swam quickly to shore and threw a mushroom at it. Now, why would I do that? Because I didn't have anything else to throw at it. I just hoped that mushroom was poisonous. Well, no I didn't, since every other mushroom looked like it. That might have been disastrous if I had eaten them.

Anyway, that experience made me compelled to swim elsewhere. There was a small stream nearby, and I went to it, hoping to swim. But no! It had been dammed off by beavers! The nefarious things were always cutting down trees with their sharp teeth! Why do beavers have sharp teeth? I guess to defend against all those humans who wanted to hunt them for their brilliant brown fur. Why do they have brown fur? I don't know. I suppose it's to blend in with the logs that they cut down with their sharp teeth and make irritating homes out of. And I still do not understand why they absolutely must make homes in the middle of brooks I wanted to swim in! Seriously! They are illegally and unethically restricting access to water that was made for public use! All I wanted was to take a dip in it, but no! You know, I don't even know what beavers use all that water for. Of course they don't drink all of it. Maybe they use it to water patches of mushrooms. That I can respect.

Anyway, looking at those beavers gave me an idea. See, they made their home out of wood! Why couldn't I? There wasn't any stone in the area, but I could definitely make an artificial cave out of wood! Well, it wouldn't really be a cave because it would be above ground, obviously, but, you know. Not everything is perfect. In fact, maybe some caves are above ground. I just don't know where. They must be really unusual, indeed. Well, my cave wasn't usual, either, for you see, not only was it above ground, it was made of wood! Wood, of all things! Well, wood was the only thing I had, besides mushrooms. Imagine making a cave out of mushrooms! That would be quite the sight. No, I think I would rather 'stick' to wood. Again, excuse the pun. I am afraid I am being very serious here, though a cave made of mushrooms is quite the funny concept. Ehehe.

Anyway, four weeks later and tons of consumed mushrooms (I had to subsist on them while I made my cave), I had built myself a grand new wooden cave! It was a one of a kind, a masterpiece, proof of my architectural genius. Well, maybe. So what if the roof leaked (or in some cases, poured) during a storm? So what if the floorboards creaked under my tons of weight? It was still a home. And as if to celebrate my accomplishment, instead of the searing hot sun, it drizzled gently for the rest of the day. And that would have been nice, except my cave leaked. A lot. Especially when the drizzle turned into a storm that almost caved in my cave. Well, at least my cave wasn't made of mushrooms. Or salt. That would have been disastrous.

But what else was disastrous? That time I set fire to my cave. For you see, a bug landed on my nose, and, well, I sneezed fire all over my precious hardwood floor. And where did the bug come from? The trees. And where did the- well, you get my point.

I set fire to my cave once.


End file.
